


I'm sorry I can't

by aishiterumo



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Blood, Bullying, Character Death, Death, Dubious Consent, First Time, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sex With No Feelings, Suicidal Thoughts, blowjob, hitman seungmin, if you squint your eyes enough maybe there's fluff, not so graphic smut, or maybe there are, unloving families
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:07:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24314011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aishiterumo/pseuds/aishiterumo
Summary: Jeongin never felt happy in this world. It's only after nineteen years of suffering that he finally find his happiness. Also, his birthday wish finally come true.
Relationships: Kim Seungmin/Yang Jeongin | I.N
Comments: 9
Kudos: 28





	I'm sorry I can't

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, this fic is heavily angst and contains a major character death as well as some PTSD, blood and suicidal thoughts. Please, do not read if this triggers you. Read with care. Also, I would like to remind that this story does not apply to the original person behind those characters.
> 
> I just need to say that this work is very close to me, because it is heavily inspired by true events. If you ever feel this way, however, please do not hesitate to seek for help--not in Jeongin's way!
> 
> Please, read with care, I will say it once again because I know some people do not read tags, but this contains MCD, PTSD, blood and suicidal thoughts.

Jeongin never really fitted in this world. He never felt part of it. Born second son of his family, right in the middle, he oftentimes felt forgotten, even abandoned. It was as if his entire existence had vanished as soon as he was born. His older brother was adored, envied. His little brother was spoiled, loved. And he was, there. He simply was. Neither disliked, nor liked. He just, was.

Kindergarten. First day. Jeongin gets his pacifier stolen by another kid. He cries and hit the boy. He is the one getting punished and put in a corner to _think about his behaviour_. His pacifier, never seen again.

Primary school. First time talking in public. The teacher doesn’t ask his classmates to keep silence while he talks. His oral ends, the teacher looks up and asks him to do it again, _I wasn’t paying attention, I’m sorry, can you just say it again?_

Elementary school. P.E. Class just ended, Jeongin takes his time to put his clothes back. He’s the last one in the locker room. The teacher forgets him and locks the door from the outside. Jeongin sleeps on a bench the entire night, only found the next day when the P.E. Teacher unlocks the door. When he comes home, his parents didn’t even realize he wasn’t there.

Middle school. Group projects. He does it alone, at the back of the room, because they were an odd number and the teacher forgot to put him in a group yet doesn’t want to make one group uneven from the others. He doesn’t even get a grade.

High school. Now. Jeongin misses school but no one sees he's missing, because no one even remembers he’s supposed to be there. Whenever he enters a classroom, students look at him as if he had entered the wrong one. Yet, there’s always this boy. That one boy that had been there since kindergarten. Always looking at him, pointing at him, making fun of him. “ _You didn’t kill yourself yet?_ ” he says one day Jeongin is in class. The teacher is there. The teacher hears. The teacher looks at him but says nothing. It’s just another normal day for Jeongin.

His whole existence feels painful. Getting out of bed is painful, staying in bed is painful too. Walking, running, sitting, not moving. Everything feels too much. Jeongin feels too much. He can feel his veins moving under his skin. He can feel the fabric of his clothes when he takes them in his hands. He can feel the moistness of his skin whenever he’s sweating. He can feel his hair poking through his skin, at the back of his neck. He can feel his eyelid getting heavier as he blinks his tiredness away. He can feel his ears ring as he listens to music too loudly. He can feel his throat getting tighter and tighter as he’s holding back his tears at yet another event occurring in his life. He can feel his heart beating in his chest, as he wished it didn’t.

Jeongin just wished he could never wake up in the morning. But then, it implies he could fall asleep during the night, which he did not. He often lies in his bed, staring at his ceiling as thoughts clouds his mind. _What if I simply stabbed myself in the heart? What if I cut my wrist in the bathtub? What if I take my mom’s medicine for her heart? What if I drink those cleaning products in the storage room? What if I jump from my window? What if I hang myself on the ceiling fan?_ But sleep never comes for him, or when it does, it clouds his mind with nightmares. And when Jeongin wakes up, he wishes he hadn’t.

Whenever Jeongin’s birthday wasn’t forgotten, he always wished for the same thing. Since the day he learned how to form a thought, his wish has always been the same. ‘ _Please, let this year be my last_ ’ his wish never came true. Because the next year, he has to wish it again.

It’s not like he never tried. Because he did. He’s just too much of a coward to hurt himself all the way. Because he feels. He feels too much. He feels the blade piercing his skin as he’s cutting his wrist. He feels his heart racing as it senses the danger. He feels his eyes welling up with tears. And he stops. He always stops, leaving red marks on his arms but never blood on the floor. Jeongin hates himself. Jeongin hates himself for not being courageous enough.

On his nineteenth birthday, Jeongin wishes the same. This time, though, he knows it will come true. He planned it all, and his plan cannot fail. He simply knows it cannot, because it’s a genius plan.

*** * ***

Seungmin had an unconventional job, to say the least. He has always been a disturbed kid, enjoying inflicting pain to others, watching horror movies with a curious eye, looking through murder investigation documentaries. People thought he was just meant to become a cop. And that’s what he did. Because it was the easier—normal—way to learn how to use a gun, and other weapons. However, as soon as he got all the information he required, Seungmin quitted his job and became a hitman.

It was surreal the amount of money people was ready to pay just to see someone dead. Millions from one side to see that church leader dead, millions from another to see that rich man dead, and it goes on, and on, and on. Seungmin enjoyed killing and enjoyed the money. Still, it did not get into his head. He still lived in a fairly small apartment considering the millions he had in his bank account. Only the necessary in his apartment, he may have owned three paintings at the very most.

When he received a text from a nineteen-year-old boy asking to meet up with him _for a kill_ , he got suspicious. Nonetheless, when he saw that the boy was offering a few thousands, he was willing to at least meet up. If it was a serious request, maybe he will accept it. He usually did not accept request from underaged, but the boy seemed desperate so maybe he will, this time.

Sitting at a café’s terrace, it was probably a bit weird for the younger boy to talk about his request in semi-public. Seungmin was used to it, so he started the conversation.

“ _I read your request through and through, so I got the main point of it. You want to get rid of someone underage, for personal reasons like most does, and you’re willing to pay five thousand for it to be done quickly. How quickly?_ ”

“ _Today, if possible?_ ” the boy said in a quivering voice

“ _To—Today? It’s a bit—I mean, it’s quick_ ,” Seungmin stuttered. He was used to people in a rush with their request, but never had people asked for it to be done on the same day as the meeting. “ _Well, if that person is—like—close, maybe we can arrange that. If you have the money ready, too._ ” Seungmin felt even more suspicious of it. Something was fishy.

“ _I do, actually. And the target is… close-by,_ ” the boy said as he took a small bag from his pocket, putting it on the table in front of them. Seungmin quickly grabbed it, looked inside, and counted the money. There was more than five thousand. “ _I put a bit more, because I have a request_.”

“ _The kill is already a request. But go on_ ,” if he was payed more, he was willing to listen.

“ _Once you’re done, could you—Um, put… ‘it’ at this address_ ,” the boy said as he slid a piece of paper towards Seungmin, an address on it.

“ _I guess? Mm. I need to ask for some of your infos, and then some regarding the target_ ,” the hitman got his professional tone back. He will take this request.

“ _Yang Jeongin, that’s my name. I’m—uh I’m nineteen, and I—I live at this address_ ,” said Jeongin answered with a soft but trembling voice, pointing at the paper he had given Seungmin a few minutes prior.

Seungmin arched a brow, wondering why this so called Jeongin wanted his target’s body to be _delivered_ at his own apartment. _Maybe he just wants to see the body for himself_ , he thought. _Weird_ , _but I still got weirder anyway_. “ _And the target?_ ” the hitman added.

“ _Well the target is—The target—Um, the target it’s—him?_ ” once again, he slid a piece of paper towards the older boy. On it, was a picture. On the picture, was Yang Jeongin. Yang Jeongin, he was sitting in front of Seungmin. On the picture of the target Seungmin needed to kill, there was the boy sitting in front of him, paying for this killing.

“ _What? Is this—Is this a joke? Did you get the wrong picture? Do you—Perhaps you have a twin brother? You do look alike, that is for sure,_ ” Seungmin awkwardly laughed as he tried to rationalize his thoughts and the events occurring in front of his eyes. That nineteen-year-old boy could not be asking to get killed, _paying_ to get killed, right? He could not ask to get his _dead body delivered to his own house_ , right? Even to Seungmin, it sounded crazy. And if it did, then it surely was.

“ _It’s not a joke. And I don’t have a twin brother. It’s me. I’m the target. Please take my money, and let’s just get it done,_ ” the boy said, his eyes getting watery. “ _Please_ ,” he pleaded, insisting on the word as if it was his life request—which it was, Seungmin simply did not know that yet.

“ _I’m sorry. I’m sorry but I can’t. I’m sorry I can’t. No, I can’t. I just can’t. I’m not going to kill you!_ ” the hitman said, getting louder and louder, grabbing people’s attention. Feeling the eyes on them, he quickly apologized for being loud and lied that they were talking about some shooting game. It seemed to work as people went back to their drinks and foods, not caring about them anymore. When he turned back to Jeongin, he saw that the boy was crying, tears rolling down his cheeks in huge amount, only one word leaving his lips: “ _Please._ ”

It broke Seungmin’s heart to see such a young boy that desperate to die. It broke his heart mostly because he heard Jeongin’s story. After calming the boy’s tears, he had asked the reason behind his request, and Jeongin had been the most honest he had been in his entire life, not leaving any details behind. “ _I just want to stop feeling_ ,” he had said. And it gave Seungmin an idea, an idea that did not seem too bad to accomplish.

“ _What if I help you, in some other way?_ ” he had said, and Jeongin had seemed intrigued. Intrigued enough to listen, so Seungmin pursued. “ _What if I give you the love and affection you lacked your whole life? It will probably help even better than to end things. We could try, what do you think of that?_ ” The idea of being loved and cared for might have been tempting enough for Jeongin as he simply nodded and took back his money that Seungmin was handing him.

The hitman hadn’t thoroughly thought his idea, because he never really loved anyone. He did not know how to care for someone, to give warmth to one’s heart. Yet, he tried his best. Because a nineteen-year-old boy could not desperately ask for death.

Seungmin had walked back to his apartment, wondering how he could help a stranger to feel loved. The only idea he got was after watching a romance movie—which had disgust him a bit. Seungmin never was fond of love, never did he long for affection. The idea of kissing Jeongin felt weird, not repulsive though. Maybe he could pull this through.

The next day, the hitman asked Jeongin to come to his apartment. Right after sending the address, Jeongin said he was on his way. It could have been a lie, if the boy hadn’t knocked on his door fifteen minutes later.

“ _I just need to put some kind of rules to this,_ ” Seungmin started once they were sitting on his couch. Jeongin nodded and gave him his complete attention. “ _I’m just doing this for you to discover love and affection. This will lead to nothing between us. Yet, if you feel uncomfortable with anything, just tell me. We can stop this as soon as you say so. However, and it’s a promise, whether you like it or not, I will not kill you._ ” These last words took back the smile that had formed on Jeongin’s face. The younger lowered his head as he said he _understood and accepted his rules_.

Then, Seungmin still could not believe he did this. He took the boy’s face between his thumb and index finger, forcing him to look up as he put his lips over Jeongin’s. It wasn’t like in the movies, nor was it like his parents. It just felt like two patches of skin against two other patches of skin. He did not feel butterflies in his stomach—which was normal as he did not love Jeongin—nor did he feel his body heating up from the contact. The older boy kept his eyes open, analysing the younger’s face. He had small almond eyes—closed as they kissed—a small but round-tipped nose and skinny cheeks. Jeongin was attractive, in his way. It still did not make Seungmin’s stomach turn in shyness and get filled up with feelings.

Moving his hand from the boy’s chin to his cheek, he let it slid a bit further away, his ear getting trapped between his thumb and index finger as he grabbed a bit of his nape, forcing the younger to tilt his head back, deepening the kiss as he did so. His tongue made its way to the other’s mouth, who submitted pretty quickly and opened it. Seungmin’s tongue roamed a bit in the younger’s mouth, until Jeongin finally picked up what was happening and moved his tongue too. It felt hot, and wet. It simply felt like what it was, two muscles turning over and under each other. Saliva drooling a bit from the corner of Jeongin’s mouth as they kissed for too long, noses hitting each other in their sloppiness. Seungmin broke the contact, caressing the boy’s skin with his hand still on his nape, the other one had found its way on Jeongin’s stomach. “ _Was that ok?_ ” Jeongin simply nodded, cheeks dusty pink and eyes half-closed.

Feelings may have been absent; a body was still a body. And Jeongin’s body reacted a bit too well to their kiss. A bulge had formed in his pants, making him squirm a bit as he felt the hitman’s eyes on him. “ _I’m sorry, I didn’t—I swear it wasn’t supposed to—_ ” Jeongin tried to apologize, and Seungmin would have let him if he did not remember he was supposed to show _love and care_ to him. So, he cut him off by kissing his lips again and then dropping on his knees. Now kneeling in front of his couch, in between a stranger’s legs, Seungmin really wondered how he could’ve ended up like this. Still, he shook his head slightly—slightly enough for Jeongin not to see—and he unzipped the boy’s jeans.

Jeongin hid his face with both of his hands, not watching has Seungmin gulped after seeing the younger’s boxer. Not seeing the way Seungmin grimaced as he pulled down his boxer and freed the boy’s erection. Jeongin was shy. He felt exposed. Feeling the cold air hitting him, he hissed. But then, he felt Seungmin’s hot mouth around him and he couldn’t help the moan that left his throat. Still hiding his face with one hand, the other one got tangled in the older’s brown hair as he was bobbing his head up and down. Moans filled the living-room, Jeongin being unable to contain any sound that wanted to leave his throat, even if his hand was filtering it a bit, it was still obscenely audible.

Seungmin was tightly holding onto the boy’s thighs, trying his best not to choke as he was sucking off the younger. When Jeongin started to ramble nonsense, Seungmin understood that he was close. So, feeling like he already disgusted himself enough for today, he took the boy’s member out of his mouth, licking the tip, then the sides, finally giving some attention to his balls, but and repeated until the younger was done.

Still on his knees in front of Jeongin—who now was dressed and cleaned again—Seungmin waited for him to get back from his high. He felt dirty and wanted to wash his mouth with bleach. He did not say a thing, looking at the younger opening his eyes and breathing evenly again. He got up and went to his kitchen, coming back a few minutes later with a glass of water and a cookie he found in his cupboard. “ _I’ll be back in a few_ ,” he said before leaving to lock himself in his bathroom. Ten minutes later—and after brushing his teeth five times—Seungmin came back to the living-room and sat next to Jeongin.

“ _You didn’t have to_ ,” the younger finally said after a full minute of silence.

“ _Did you enjoy it?_ ” the hitman asked. When Jeongin nodded and hummed, he sighed. “ _Then I will do it again, if needed_.”

Alone again in his apartment, Seungmin thought back to his life choices. When he decided to become a hitman, it was to fulfil his want of killing and to soothe his anger issues. It was not to blow off a stranger on his couch. He regretted taking pity of that boy. Why couldn’t he just go back on his words and kill him? _Oh, right_. He promised not to. _Fuck._

Turning over and over in his bed, Seungmin woke up with a start when he heard someone knock on his door at two in the morning. Groggily, he got out of bed and put on his glasses. Hair sticking in every direction, bare chest, he opened the door and saw a crying Jeongin in front of him. “ _Can I come in?_ ” the boy said through his sobs—or at least that’s what Seungmin decipher. He wanted to close the door and act like he didn’t see anything. He wanted to say _no, go back to your home_. He didn’t. He opened the door wider and closed it after the boy had entered.

“ _What happened?_ ” he finally asked. Jeongin was standing in the middle of his living-room, not moving, not talking, just crying. The hitman sighed to himself, walking towards the boy, he hugged him from behind, caressing soothing circles over his arms as he kissed his shoulders. Slowly, he calmed down and started talking. “ _I came home and—I got home, and my mom said—She said that—My mom was—_ ” he stopped, a sob leaving his throat as he sniffed loudly. “ _My mom said she heard I—She heard from my dad that I—I took the money they saved for—That they had saved for my—For my little brother and—She said she knew and she—_ ” At this point, Seungmin had understood the situation. He did not need to hear any more—nor did he want to—but he still let the boy finish his sentence. He was already struggling enough; he did not need someone to cut him off. “ _She told me she wanted me—wanted me out. She wanted me out of her—of the house. And I—And I walked. I walked here and I—I can’t. Can I—I can’t go anywhere else._ ” Jeongin started sobbing again, his shoulders moving up and down every time.

“ _You can stay here, it’s ok_ ,” the older heard himself say. But it was not ok.

Half an hour later, Jeongin was fast asleep in Seungmin’s bed. And it could’ve been bearable if Seungmin had been asleep on his couch, yet he was not. He was in his bed. Next to Jeongin, who was holding his waist tightly, drooling over his naked shoulder. Seungmin stared at his ceiling, annoyance written all over his face. He wanted to break his promise and kill Jeongin in his sleep. He still managed to calm his anger, breathing loudly but calmly. However, when the younger started snoring, the hitman clenched his fist and bit his lips until it bled, trying not to choke the younger to death.

9 am, Jeongin woke up. Seungmin was still lying down on his bed, still on his back with his fists along his sides. The younger got up in a hurry, whipping his wet mouth with the back of his hand as he apologized for sleeping so close to him. “ _It’s ok, don’t worry_ ,” Seungmin lied as he finally sat in his bed.

Living with Jeongin was a pain in the ass. Seungmin was used to live alone, eat alone, work alone, breathe alone. But now, he needed to look after some kid, to shower him in some kind of affection he never affectionate, and to keep him from _wanting to die_ , which was ironical when Seungmin only _wanted him dead_.

Maybe the most difficult thing for Seungmin was not to show Jeongin how to be loved, but to love him. It was hard to hug the boy and stroke his back with affection. It was hard to kiss the boy and not feel like puking in his mouth. It was hard to blow off the younger or to jerk him off whenever their kisses got too heated for him. It was hard to share a bed, a couch, a table. It was just hard, because Seungmin’s heart was hard.

Seungmin did not need love. He did not need to feel things, since that day. Since his parents took his only love away.

Seungmin was in primary school. He had made his very first friend. He was a sweet boy, very sweet. Two year older than him, the boy knew so much more of the world. Seungmin loved him. He knew he loved him. He knew the boy was way more than just a friend. When he had told the boy, it was a pleasant “ _I do too_ ” that greeted him. Seungmin was delighted. However, his parents were not. Hearing words that scar him for life, Seungmin was forced to see his parents slap the older boy’s face as they threatened him if he _ever came near Seungmin ever again_. The boy never went _near him ever again_. And Seungmin never loved, _ever again_.

Though, there he was. Holding Jeongin’s waist, head pressed against his shoulder, both lying down on the boy’s bed. Jeongin was awake, Seungmin too. None of them found sleep. Jeongin didn’t say a word, he was used to stay up all night. Seungmin, on the other hand, found himself lost in his thoughts.

It wasn’t that hard to love Jeongin, actually. If his heart wasn’t so cold, Seungmin would have been madly in love with the boy. It wasn’t his fault if every time he was affectionate towards him, he saw his first love getting slapped in the face. It wasn’t his fault if every time he wanted to puke the same way he had when his first love ran away from him.

“ _Seungmin, are you ok?_ ” Jeongin suddenly asked, his hand finding its way to Seungmin’s as he felt his shoulder getting wet. “ _Are you crying?_ ”

“ _No. No, I’m not_ ,” the older sniffled. It gave it away. He was crying.

Jeongin turned over, now facing the hitman. The boy’s hands went from the younger’s stomach to the small of his back in an instant. Staring into his eyes, Jeongin softly whipped the boy’s tears with his thumb. “ _Are you ok?_ ” he asked again.

Seungmin couldn’t lie anymore, so he shook his head no. “ _Can I kiss you?_ ” he bluntly asked. Jeongin got taken aback, yet he still hummed.

Seungmin leaned in, pressing his lips over the younger’s. He felt Jeongin’s lips, his tears, but then he felt his first love’s lips. Back to when he was a kid, when his first kiss was stolen—or given away. He felt his first love’s smooth lips over his, and suddenly he saw that same boy getting hit by his mother. More tears rolled from his eyes, his lips shivering a bit as he sobbed. Jeongin caressed his cheek again, for once being the one dominating the kiss. Each time Jeongin’s thumb was going from left to right on his cheek, the image got blurrier. Soon, he managed to grasp reality back, and he felt Jeongin’s lips over his again. They weren’t smooth, they weren’t plump. They were small, a bit chapped, but they were real. They were real and Seungmin felt his heart jump at the realisation. This kiss felt different. _This kiss_ wasn’t so bad.

After that night, living with Jeongin wasn’t so bad. He looked at the younger and felt his heart swelling up a bit. His heart wasn’t cold anymore. Jeongin broke its shell. The hitman got scared, but the feeling was nice. It was nice and, he didn’t have to hold back. He had to make Jeongin feel loved, right? Then, he will just let his heart dictate his every move.

Out of nowhere, Seungmin would hug the boy, tickle the boy, kiss the boy, even blow him off in the middle of his kitchen just because he felt like it. Jeongin didn’t say anything at this change of behaviour, not even seeing he wasn’t pretending anymore.

One night, once again both awake, Seungmin kissed the boy’s shoulder to grab his attention. “ _Can we try something?_ ” Seungmin had asked once Jeongin gave him his attention. “ _What is it?_ ” “ _Can we have sex?_ ” The sudden question—or suggestion to be more precise—made Jeongin choke on air, “ _Why?_ ” “ _Well… Won’t you feel loved?_ ” The younger seemed to think about it for a moment, then he nodded and agreed with Seungmin’s way of thinking.

Climbing on top of him, the hitman got rid of the younger’s t-shirt, and then of his pyjama pants. It was his first time really looking at his body, and he could feel himself getting hard as he traced the boy’s abs with the tip of his finger. The younger wasn’t shy anymore, he wasn’t hiding anymore. Seungmin hovered over the younger boy, kissing his lips softly as he moved his hips on top of the boy’s, created some friction between his clothed member and Jeongin’s naked one. It elicited a moan from the both of them.

It was the first time Jeongin heard Seungmin moan, and it took him by surprise. He stared at him, his hands on his back clenching a bit. Lust clouding their eyes, they moved their hips again, kissed again, moaning against each other’s skin.

Seungmin wasn’t the type to have sex often—he probably didn’t look like someone who ever had sex in general—yet he still had some condoms somewhere in his bedside table. Searching for it for a moment, he finally found one, next to a bottle of lube he didn’t even remember buying. _Is it still good to use?_ He wondered—and probably said if it was for the way Jeongin looked at him. He looked at the expiration date on both packages. “ _It’s still ok!_ ” he sighed of relief, Jeongin chuckling at him. Seungmin wasn’t even aware of what he only thought and what he actually said.

It was awkward at first, for the both of them. Jeongin had never had sex. And Seungmin wasn’t usually the one _on top_. Taking things slow, and preparing Jeongin correctly, it only really felt good for the both of them after Seungmin had stopped fingering him and finally entered him—well, to be more accurate, it wasn’t _that_ pleasing for Jeongin at first since he needed time to adjust to feeling _something inside of him_.

His hip thrust getting a steadier pace after some time, Seungmin started to kiss and bite the younger’s neck. He could feel his nails digging in the flesh of his back, so it was only fair to let his teeth dig small holes in the flesh of his neck, _right_? If the loud moan Jeongin had let out was a clue of his pleasure, Seungmin quickly took it and bit him a bit more.

All sweaty and panting, both boys were laying on their back, hand in hand, fingers intertwined. Seungmin had a proud smile on his face. Jeongin had his eyes closed and mouth slightly opened to breathe. Their pyjamas were all over the floor, the filled condom was tied and thrown in a bin—or maybe somewhere on the floor—and the duvet was half on the bed half on the floor. Seungmin started chuckling, turning a bit on his side, putting his face on top of the younger’s shoulder. He couldn’t believe he was warming up to the younger boy, to the point he wasn’t doing it out of pity anymore. He genuinely wanted him to be happy.

Jeongin fell asleep, that night. Seungmin did not, too busy staring at the boy’s face and caressing his hand with his thumb.

The next few days, Seungmin acted as if they were boyfriends—maybe they would have been, if they had made a contract or something. He bought gifts for Jeongin. He took the boy on dates. He told him _how pretty he was_ , or _how much he loved him_. Jeongin got shy at first, but then he got along with it and let his hand be held when they were in public. He kissed back, even in public. He said some _I love you_ back, but mostly in public. And Seungmin thought he finally had made the boy feel loved. He wanted Jeongin to feel loved, and he wanted to be the one giving him the love he deserved.

Taking the younger’s hand in his as they walked down the street, Seungmin suddenly stopped to go in front of him, “ _Are you happy?_ ” His question was unexpected, and Jeongin mumbled a few words before answering for good. “ _I don’t know. Not really?_ ”

It wasn’t the answer Seungmin had imagined. He thought Jeongin would have said he _was happy, happier than he had ever been_. Seungmin would have kissed him in front of everyone and ask him to be his boyfriend—for real, for good. Jeongin would have said yes and they would have dated, and maybe a few years later they could have gotten married and adopt a small puppy and move out from that tiny apartment for a big house away from the city. Seungmin’s dream came crashing as soon as Jeongin had opened his mouth. “ _What?_ ” was the only word he managed to say. His throat was tight, he could barely breathe. _Was he about to cry?_

“ _Well, I do feel loved. You love me so well, Seungmin. But I’m not happy. You do it for me, and I’m thankful. But I just—I think I just don’t fit in this world. I don’t feel happy, but I do feel loved_ ,” Jeongin insisted on making this point clear, that he did feel loved. But it only hurt Seungmin more. His love wasn’t enough for the younger to feel content with life. Seungmin could love him as much as he could, Jeongin would never feel happy.

Gulping his broken heart away, Seungmin hummed, nodded, and went back to Jeongin’s side, walking towards his—their?—apartment as they were before _he asked that stupid question he should have kept buried deep in his brain_.

Seungmin thought deeply about it. Should he do it? Should he try harder? Should he ignore it? It kept him awake at night, every night. It got his appetite away. It got his own happiness away—he just had gotten it back and it was already gone again. His decision was final. He will regret it. But it was final.

Jeongin woke up first, getting out of bed and into the shower. Seungmin woke up as he heard the water running and the boy humming whatever song he had stuck in his head at that moment— _is it Viva la Vida? Nevermind, Seungmin. Just focus_.

The hitman got out of bed, searching through one of his drawers. He took a large t-shirt and put it over his head, feeling his heart race. It was the first time it raced _for this_. He heard Jeongin coming out of the bathroom. He waited until he heard the footsteps go towards the kitchen to go out of his bedroom, walking towards the same room.

Jeongin was in front of the toaster, waiting for his bread to come out, still humming the same song— _yep, it is Viva la Vida_. Seungmin took a deep breath, walking in the kitchen without making any noise. He walked next to the kitchen counter, taking the biggest knife he owned in his hand before stopping right behind Jeongin. His free hand circled the boy’s waist, pulling him against his chest. He kissed Jeongin right under his ear, closing his eyes as he let the boy’s lemony scent engulf him. “ _You scared me!_ ” Jeongin yelled in a laughing tone.

Seungmin simply kissed his skin deeper, opening his eyes again, “ _I’m sorry I can’t_ ,” he says in a wobbly voice.

The younger didn’t got the time to ask what he meant that Seungmin had already stabbed him in the back, literally. The knife had pierced the boy’s ribcage, the tip of the blade in the middle of the boy’s right lung. He heard the boy choke, probably on his own blood. Seungmin’s eyes filled in tears as he hugged the boy tighter against his body. He kept the knife in place, preventing the blood to go out on the wound and kill him too fast. He turned the younger to face him, caressing his cheek as he stared at his teary eyes. “ _I’m sorry I can’t keep my promise_ ,” he said as tears rolled down his cheeks, “ _I love you so much, Jeongin. I just—I want you to be happy_ ,” his voice broke. Through his tears, he saw that Jeongin was smiling. He was smiling. Happy. He was happy. Jeongin weakly lifted his hand, putting it on his murderer’s cheek, “ _I am now_.” Jeongin choked on every syllable, blood slowly getting out of his mouth as it filled his lungs. Seungmin was an efficient hitman, and knew how to kill someone quickly. Yet, he kept the boy in his arm alive as long as he could. His head was pounding as his tears rolled down his face. His nose was runny, saliva came out of his mouth every time he opened it. On edge, he got startled by the toaster’s noise when Jeongin’s bread jumped out of it. He only cried harder.

On his knees on his kitchen’s floor, Jeongin’s body in his arms, Seungmin was still crying. His warmed heart was getting cold again. He felt it building another shell, thicker, harder. But still, he wanted to make the boy happy. And the boy he loved was happy. He knew how he could make him happier, though.

Once he had regained his composure, Seungmin left Jeongin’s lifeless body on his kitchen floor as he took a shower and got dressed. Taking his knife out of the younger’s body, blood sprawled on the tiles of his floor. Not annoyed, nor sad, nor angry, he put the knife in the sink before lifting his lover’s body, putting him in a bag he had stored somewhere in his room—he barely ever used those bags, only when he needed to clean after himself. Today was a bit special, and he felt happy to use this bag as he thought about where he was heading to.

Looking at the piece of paper between his fingers, and then at the house in front of him, Seungmin tightened his grip on the bag’s straps. He walked towards the front door, putting the bag in front of it. He slightly unzipped it, just enough for Jeongin’s hair to stick out, and he rang the bell.

When the door finally opened, Seungmin was hiding behind a bush near the house. He looked as his lover’s mom eyed the bag, kneeled in front of it and opened it slightly. He laughed as he saw his lover’s mom yelled in horror, falling on her butt as she pushed the bag with both her hands and feet, trying to move far away from the dead body on her doorstep. He felt happy when he saw his lover’s family sticking together over the bag, looking at their middle child that no one even remembered being gone for months.

Seungmin felt delighted, as he had filled his client’s request. He walked home and cleaned his kitchen floor, going back to his old life. A part of his mind never forgot Jeongin, but he kept the memories he had made with him locked in a corner, next to his memories of his first love.

**Author's Note:**

> find more work on my [twitter](https://twitter.com/softflowermin) :]  
> you can also ask question related to my works on my [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/softflowermin)!


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